


No Escape Needed

by lesyeuxverts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Legilimency, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:12:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxverts/pseuds/lesyeuxverts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy had decided this morning over coffee and porridge that today is the day that he'll try to seduce Severus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Escape Needed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for snapelike in the daily_deviant kinky kristmas fest.

A cottage in the Cotswolds, Severus thinks. A bolt-hole in the country – the hideaway that Dumbledore had once offered him, throwing out the possibility like a gossamer wisp on the wind, like he had with so many of his plans. He'd meant for Severus to think about it and take him up on the offer.   
  
Any refuge, anywhere. The quiet dark of the dungeons, or the smoking ruins of the Room of Requirement. Anything would be better than this.   
  
He stares back at Percy, meeting his gaze but refusing to answer him. There is no possible answer. There's no way that Percy can have mistaken the response of his body – no way that he can have misinterpreted it.   
  
Severus blinks when Percy slides to his knees on the floor in front of him, placing warm hands on his trousers. Severus takes a step back.   
  
"I will not have your pity," he says, forcing the words past a throat that feels too tight.   
  
"It isn't pity, Professor," Percy says, with his hands firm on Severus's legs. "Trust me, it isn't that."  
  
There is, Severus supposes, a story he ought to believe – Weasley's bottled-up lust accumulating over the months of nursing him back to health, finally loosed and set free; a childhood fancy nurtured over the years of the war; a ridiculous Gryffindor impulse to save him.   
  
"It's true," Percy says. He looks at Severus with a helpless, open expression on his face. "Look for yourself, if you don't believe me."  
  
Severus would caution him, tell him never to make an offer to a Slytherin if it isn't sincere, but he's overcome with the temptation to _know_ , and so he slips into Percy's mind without warning.   
  
All of the shields are gone, Percy's natural and learned barriers held at their lowest to give Severus the freedom to look. Percy is there, patient, offering him the opportunity to look without flinging information at him, waiting for him to decide.   
  
It doesn't take long for Severus to find the memories – building attraction, shocking flashes of lust, Percy's decision this morning over coffee and porridge that this is it, today is the day that he'll try to seduce him. Severus finds them, and presses down hard enough to hurt, enough to be cruel.   
  
"This is not a good idea," he tells Percy. His cottage refuge, his dark dungeons, anywhere he can go and lick his wounds in peace and quiet. Any escape…  
  
Percy pushes Severus out of his mind with ease and stands, taking him by the hand and pulling. Severus is too shocked to protest, too unsettled to resist when Percy leads him upstairs. No one has thrown Severus out of their mind with such mastery since the first war, since his first lessons in Occlumency. He realizes he's shivering.   
  
"I think I should be the one to decide that," Percy says. He brings Severus to the upstairs bedchamber, and lights a fire on the hearth with a muttered spell.  
  
Severus won't fold his arms over his chest to ward off the lingering cold. He won't admit that he's glad that Weasley has brought him here instead of the downstairs bedroom, which is still full of the lingering memories of his sickness and weakness. Percy has seen him vulnerable, has…  
  
"Shhh," Percy says, putting a finger over Severus's lips. "Stop thinking about it."  
  
He undresses Severus with slow, competent motions, running his hands over bare skin as it's exposed. He's as sure and focussed on this as he ever was on his tasks when he was nursing Severus. There's something strangely appealing about being the centre of such focus, the one thing that Percy is concentrating on … Severus lets a sigh escape him, a tiny sound, but Percy hears it.   
  
He rewards Severus with a kiss, pressing it to his bare thigh. "Stop thinking about it," he repeats, standing and leading Severus to the bed. "You think too much about everything."  
  
Severus suppresses a laugh, because it's ironic to hear that from the only Weasley who's ever spent any time thinking about anything. Percy has thought too much about _this_ , Severus knows from the memories he's seen. He finds, though, that Percy probably _knows_ that Severus wanted to laugh at him. Percy traces the curve of Severus's lips and then presses a kiss to them.   
  
They're on the bed, Percy still fully clothed and Severus stripped down to his pants. He ought, by any rights, to feel vulnerable. Somehow it doesn't bother him – Percy has seen him at his worst, and not turned away from him.   
  
Pressed together as they are, Severus can feel the hardness of Percy's cock, even through the layers of his clothing. It seems incredible that Severus can have such an effect on the man who has been cool and composed during the past year, the man who has recovered from all the injuries of the war with equanimity.   
  
"Let me," Percy says, his breath hot against Severus's neck. "Let me in - _please_."  
  
He's pressing against Severus's mind, his mental touch deft, but it's that _please_ that makes Severus let him in. Percy had said something similar, the first day he'd come and offered to care for Severus. _Please let me do this for you. You deserve this._  
  
Severus brings his hands up and runs his fingers through Percy's hair. He has never been the submissive lover, the one whose mind was penetrated, but he can see the attraction to it now, with Percy filling his mind like a stream of cool water. He is not invasive, not intrusive, but he guides Severus to the right memories, thoughts of flesh, of passion, of release. He is good at it, and that above all things makes Severus's breath catch.   
  
"Yes," he says, and Percy slips a hand into his pants and starts working his cock with sure, deft strokes, knowing from Severus's mind exactly what he will like. " _Yes._ "  
  
It's over too soon, Severus spending himself in a few short seconds when Percy finds the right memory, a fantasy of the two of them bent over the kitchen sink and rutting together in the lazy afternoon sunlight. He slides over the peak and into orgasm with a gasp, biting his lip to keep from crying out.   
  
Severus closes his eyes, breaking the connection with Weasley. It is over, and Percy has seen too much. Severus reaches over to reciprocate, to give something back of the pleasure that he's given, but he finds the front of Percy's trousers already sticky with his come.   
  
Percy came in his pants while he was touching Severus and working him to orgasm – it seems incredible, a thought that Severus would have never had before his morning porridge today. He reaches for his wand, finds that Percy thoughtfully set it on the bedside table and in easy reach, too.   
  
Severus would curse himself for letting this man get so close, letting him see Severus's weaknesses and learn how to be considerate of them – he _would_ curse himself, but the results speak for themselves, he thinks. He may not need a bolt-hole in the country or a cottage refuge. He casts a cleaning spell, taking care of the mess on both of them, and sets his wand back on the table.   
  
"Mmm," Percy says, his voice rough with the edge of drowsiness and something that Severus can't – won't – put a name to. "You think too much."  
  
He pulls Severus closer, draping an arm over him and clinging in the way that Severus once thought was suitable for limpets and weaklings. They have lain like this together, though, Percy holding him through the worst of his nightmares and keeping him still with the poison from the snake shook his limbs and sent him into convulsions. This is familiar, comfortable, real.   
  
"You're wearing too many clothes," Severus tells him, trying to keep an edge of peevishness out of his voice.   
  
"We'll take care of that later," Percy says. His voice trails away as he drifts off to sleep, but the promise in his words is as good as a kiss. Severus stops thinking about it, stops thinking too much about escaping, and lets himself fall asleep in the curve of Percy's arms. They'll take care of everything later.


End file.
